


From Skinny, Ragmop Kid to Man

by Diary



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Awkwardness, Background Relationships, Bisexual Bruce Banner, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Tony Stark, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bruce Banner Has Issues, Bruce Banner-centric, Canon Character of Color, Canon Crossover, Canon Divergence - No Hydra Takeover, Cousins, Family, Friendship/Love, Getting Together, Howard Stark's Good Parenting, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, Late Night Conversations, Minor Howard Stark/Maria Stark, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Animal Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Romance, SHIELD Scientist Bruce Banner, Scars, Science Boyfriends, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 16:57:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14061342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diary/pseuds/Diary
Summary: AU. SHIELD scientist Bruce Banner doesn't know what to make of Tony Stark's new odd behaviour towards him, why and how he's suddenly been adopted by a dog, or if his decision to sleep with Tony isn't going to end up the biggest mistake he'll ever make. Maybe, eventually, things will go back to making some sort of sense. WIP.





	From Skinny, Ragmop Kid to Man

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own anything in the MCU.

Bruce has scars. 

Steven Rogers, the world's first Captain America, and his squadmate, Sergeant Barnes, used to, but the serums had gotten rid of both of theirs. 

Tony Stark could probably be less interested in the two if he tried really hard, but it’s safe to say, if he could care less, it’s not by much. Ever since he saw Bruce naked in the decontamination shower, however, he’s been- Bruce isn’t sure. 

Howard Stark hired him as a SHIELD intern when he was eighteen. About a month later, twenty-year-old Tony Stark had looked at him, wandered off to ask his father who the skinny, ragmop kid was, and proceeded to alternate between ignoring Bruce’s presence and getting into scientific arguments with him. 

Over the years, they’ve gotten into what might be classified as a friendly rivalry. Sometimes, they’ll work in the labs together. Tony has never tried to take more credit than he deserved, but he also hasn’t made it any secret he finds Bruce lacking in various ways. 

This is fine with Bruce. He tries not to think of things in terms of ‘fair’ and ‘unfair’. Tony and his god-brother, Ivan Vanko, will one day hold the keys to the kingdom, regardless of whether the world thinks two private businessmen should have so much influence in an international alphabet agency or not. There’s nowhere in SHIELD they can’t immediately go, and only a few resources of the agency are off limits to them.

Bruce knew when he signed up, if he got on either of their bad sides, he was out the door.

Except, he doesn’t think he suddenly managed to get on Tony’s bad side in the shower. They were both ushered in after one of Tony’s robots spilt chemicals all over them, and Bruce knows locker room etiquette extremely well. He didn’t look at Tony, his hands didn’t go near his pelvis or bottom, and he didn’t speak. 

Tony either doesn’t know such etiquette or simply decided to completely ignore it. He chattered away, he tried to make eye contact, and he didn’t do anything sexual, but out of the corner of Bruce’s eyes, he saw Tony was treating the experience as an actual shower rather than just letting the water and decontamination liquids pour over him. 

He can’t bring himself to believe, and wouldn’t want to even if he could, that Tony’s new oddness around him is because of pity or compassion. The two times Bruce has had sex, he spun a story about being an athletic, adventurous kid who took some hits and stumbles along the way, and both people had seemed to believe him. They were both intelligent, but Tony is a genius who has been around medical facilities all his life. It’s unlikely he wouldn’t correctly identify the scars and marks for what they really are.

Bruce does believe Tony is capable of compassion and empathy, but he’s grateful for the fact he truly believes Tony hasn’t changed his opinion on Bruce much, if any, since finding out Bruce used to be a punching bag and whipping post when younger. 

This does make the question of what has changed Tony’s opinion and in what way even more confusing and frustrating. 

He keeps coming back to the scars, but maybe, it’s his weight. Tony used to derisively talk about how he was about as skinny as Steve Rogers used to be, and then, about a year ago, he’d studied Bruce speculatively before saying, “Huh, looks like you finally got some meat on your bones.”

Since then, he’s gotten more than just some meat on his bones. He’s become downright pudgy, and he’s been trying to eat more fruits and has joined a yoga class, but efforts applied to both are inconsistent.

Sighing, he shakes his head. “Focus, Banner.”

The holographic data stares blankly at him, and determined to crack it before the night cleaners start muttering and passively-aggressively trying to chase him out, he manages to firmly put Tony out of his mind. 

…

Tony brings a large carton of blueberries into the lab. 

Bringing up lab safety would be pointless, and they both know it. 

When Tony holds the carton out in offering, Bruce takes a handful. 

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

For a moment, Bruce is eighteen and back in his first interview with Howard Stark. That had been Mr Stark’s first question: “You got a girlfriend, kid?”

“No.”

“Boyfriend?”

He almost points out the, if not quite illegality, at least, social unacceptability of this question, but doing so would be as pointless as bringing up lab safety. “No.”

“Would you tell me if you did?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

In truth, the answer is not only no but hell no, but if he’s both extremely lucky and unlucky, someday, this spiky haired man standing in the lab with a carton of food and not wearing any lab safety clothing is going to be his boss. Fury is Director, and someday, someone not a Stark or Vanko will succeed him, but non-agent scientists fall strictly under Stark and Vanko’s purview, and the Vankos are less likely to take a personal interest in staff than the Starks are. 

Thankfully, some of the other scientists start to come in.

…

“Maybe, we should get dinner some time.”

He doesn’t look up from the samples he’s taking. “Tony, if you’re that hungry, you can have the yogurt you always make snide comments about yet still try to steal on a regular basis.”

“Do you even have a social life?”

“I’m too busy making your family and Mister Vanko’s thousands of dollars annually.”

“True, but you’re getting something out of it, too, right? You’ll have your doctorate soon, and how many patents have you gathered so far?”

“23\. I’m aiming for 24."

Tony is silent until Bruce is done. Then, he demands, “Hey, eyes over here for a minute.”

Startled, Bruce complies. 

“Honestly, what do you think of me and my family?”

On the plus side, he does have a decent amount of money saved up. 

This doesn’t mean losing his job at this point in his life wouldn’t be a complete nightmare to try to get through. 

“I’ve admired your dad since I was a kid. I’ve only met your mother a few times, not enough to know her on a personal level, but from everything I’ve seen and heard, she’s a wonderful person. As for you.” He shrugs. “You’re the future of Stark Industries and, to some extent, SHIELD.”

“Okay. So, you like my dad, you think you’d like my mom if you got to know her, and- where’s your personal opinion of me? Stating the fact I’m the future is just that. Stating a fact.”

“I try not to have personal opinions regarding my superiors or people who are one day potentially going to be a superior. Mr Stark is something of an exception.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Potentially?”

“No one can know the future. I knew when I first started my internship I might not receive an offer of employment, and once I did, I knew it might not hold me until retirement.”

For a long moment, Tony simply stares at him, and then, walks out.

…

Tony brings in food. “We’re eating in here tonight.”

Bruce isn’t sure if ‘we’ means him and Tony or if Tony is telling him to get out so that Tony and someone else can eat in the lab. 

“I got you- it’s all vegetarian. I don’t know if you’re an actual vegetarian or just lean more towards vegetarian foods. If you don’t like it, we can give it to Happy and order something else.”

“The latter,” he says. “Uh, thanks?”

He has more money than the average college kid does, but in his apartment, he mostly subsists on precooked noodles. However, at SHIELD, someone is always bringing in baked goods or ordering pizza or otherwise just shoving food at him, some of the other younger scientists, and the interns. Ending world hunger is getting closer and closer to being a reality every year, and the older members of SHIELD seem to think part of this should be making sure no SHIELD employee is ever hungry while on premise. 

Usually, Tony sticks to snacks rather than actual meals, but he’s not going to argue against having delicious smelling curry and rice in favour of bland noodles with tiny shrimps and peas he always digs out and gives to a neighbour’s dog. 

They clear off space to eat.

“Where’d you grow up,” Tony asks.

“All over until I was eight. I was an army brat. After my mom died, I spent two years in foster care until my aunt and uncle took me to live with them and my cousin in Michigan.”

“How’d you end up in California?”

“My aunt bought me a country-wide bus pass when I was seventeen. I went to New York, interviewed with your dad a few months later, and two years ago, I transferred here.” 

He’d had no plans to leave New York, but a transfer form had been filled out, and Mr Stark had told him to start packing, because, “You’re coming to Cali, kid.”

“What about your dad?” 

He glances over. 

“You said your mom died. Was your dad in the picture at all?”

“You can look that up in my file.”

Tony frowns. 

Bruce continues eating. He’s not telling Tony Stark, of all people, about how his dad tried to kill him and succeeded in killing his mom. 

Shrugging, Tony says, “Alright.” He taps Bruce’s thermos of tea. “Why don’t you drink?”

Sarcastic responses about how many favours drinking has done both Tony and Mr Stark settle in his mind. Answering honestly with a, ‘Personal moral beliefs against it,’ would do  _him_ no favours. 

“It’s not an exact science, yet, but there’s enough evidence that I have a genetic propensity for alcoholism and other forms of addiction.”

“My mom and dad worry about my drinking.”

The world at large rightfully worries about Tony’s drinking. Him running around naked in public and breaking into ice-cream stores at two in the morning are minor in comparison to him doing such things as deciding to parachute down into some Africa desert and literally wrestle a lioness. 

“You’re a closed book, Brucie.”

He manages not to roll his eyes. Sometimes, both Tony and his dad are truly creative in giving nicknames. Tony, however, hasn’t gotten quite as good at it as his dad is. 

“No, I’m not.”

“How’d you describe yourself, then?”

“A personal believer in speaking when spoken to.”

He knows immediately this answer was a mistake by the look on Tony’s face. 

Finally, Tony says, “That does explain a lot.”

They finish eating. 

Suddenly, Tony asks, “Hey, what do you think of Rhodey?”

Bruce can’t help the slight grimace going through him, and he hopes Tony doesn’t see it. Second Lieutenant Rhodes has been Tony’s closest friend since Tony was a teenager. 

“I don’t know him on a personal level, but it’s obvious he’s a dedicated officer.”

“He’s a great friend, too.” 

It’s obvious Tony expects a response, but Bruce doesn’t know what to say. He disagrees with some of Rhodes’s political views, he doesn’t appreciate the fact the other man once made a staffer cry, and every time he’s been in the same room as Rhodes, Rhodes has made it clear he doesn’t particularly care about science.

The fact Tony Stark’s best friend is a jerk is no surprise, but it is surprising how he’s suddenly found himself in a situation where, through no active part on said jerk’s part, he might soon be fired because of said jerk. 

“I’m going to head home. Thanks for the food. Night, Tony.”

Frowning, Tony says, “Night."

…

He quickly puts Tony’s oddness out of his mind when he’s assigned to work with several other scientists and interns on redesigning the facility’s solar and wind power input. 

Then, one of the interns, a black woman named Morgan Shelton, literally hops into the lab with a gash across her forehead. 

It turns out, there are neo-Nazis directly across from the building, and at first, Bruce thinks, surely, a black woman being hurt due to them would be enough to get the police to, hopefully, arrest them or, at least, make them move.

“I’m sorry, Mr Stark, but the cameras clearly show that none of them made physical contact or threw anything at her. Miss Shelton’s accident-”

“Their shouting made her so scared she fell while trying to get away. They verbally threatened her!” 

“Actually, sir, the audio shows they didn’t issue what can clearly be classified as a threat.”

A few years ago, a pack of rabid coyotes got close to the building. Mr Stark had called his wife, and soon, one of his self-driving cars had delivered either a rifle or a shotgun to the building. He’d proceeded to shoot them all, and most of them had been killed instantly with one shot. Since then, he’s kept the gun locked in his office. 

In this moment, Bruce can all too clearly imagine Mr Stark loading the gun and either aiming it at the neo-Nazis or striding over to them with it in tow. 

Part of him is truly tempted to let this happen. Understanding the ethical and legal reasons for why it would be wrong isn’t particularly holding up when there’s an innocent woman bleeding in the infirmary and having tiny fragments of rock removed from her eye because of people who hold truly reprehensible views and lionise people who enacted such views on a massive scale. 

However, when the police leave and Mr Stark starts heading for where the gun is kept as he gives instructions to the security guards about keeping everyone away from the front of the building and keeping everyone inside, Bruce finds himself grabbing his arm. “Mr Stark!”

Jumping, Mr Stark looks down at him. “Hey, kid. They didn’t get to you, did they?”

“No, sir. I was one of the ones who helped with Morgan. Mr Stark, you can’t shoot at them or threaten them with your gun. We’re scientists, doctors, and intelligence agents. Let’s get creative in driving them away, okay?”

For a few seconds, Mr Stark stares, and then, he laughs. Putting his hand on Bruce’s shoulder, he shakes his head. “Yeah, alright. Gotta say, I’m surprised, but you definitely have a point. I expect you at the staff meeting we’re about to have.”

If their despicable views weren’t enough,  _this_ would make Bruce hate the neo-Nazis.

…

The staff meeting doesn’t end in any agreement on what to do, but Bruce does think some of the ideas proposed do have merit. Unfortunately, though they’re decidedly less violent than a gun, Legal is firm on vetoing them. 

Bruce is going back to the lab when he comes across Tony and Rhodes getting coffee from one of the break rooms, and jumping at the sight of the latter, he asks, “They didn’t hurt you, did they? Did you manage to get them to leave?”

At the looks they both give him and one another, he realises Rhodes and Tony probably landed on the roof, likely during the staff meeting, and thus, have a good chance of not knowing about the neo-Nazis. 

“Second Lieutenant Rhodes, you might not want to go out the front door when you leave. We have neo-Nazis across the street. They hurt Morgan, one of our interns. She got rock fragments in her eyes, a gash across her head, and she keeps going on about her heel being broken. Apparently, it cost a lot of money and was some sort of present.”

An idea suddenly comes to him. “Anyway, Tony, I was thinking we might be able to drive them away with localised noise repellent. Do you think we could work together and try to implement this? I guess we’d have to get permission from Legal, but I don't think noise repellent is mentioned specifically in the Geneva Conventions, and if we do it right, they won’t even know it’s being done. Much easier to defend than your dad’s gun, at any rate.”

The two share another look, and then, laughing, Rhodes briefly wraps his arm around Tony’s shoulders. “Have fun with your science. I’m going to find your dad.”

“Probably in his office,” Bruce offers. 

Rhodes walks away, and Tony gives Bruce a bemused, curious smile. “Which lab were you thinking, Banner?”

In response, Bruce asks, “Where do you keep your drones?”

…

At one point, Tony takes a break to go get some snacks, and bringing back an armful of junk food, he dumps it across the table.

Sighing, Bruce shuts off the screen part of the table and hopes Tony’s snacks didn’t mess something up. 

“You really aren’t happy about these Nazis, are you?”

“Neo-Nazis,” he corrects. “What person would be?”

Shrugging, Tony opens a package with his teeth and begins eating the chocolate. Through a mouthful, he says, “I heard you took over when Morgan came in and made sure they did an eye exam. Good you did.”

“Let’s just make sure she doesn’t get someone’s car and decide to run them down. Her license was suspended for a reason.” 

Tony takes a swig of soda. “Are you and her friends?”

Bringing up the data on a monitor, he answers, “We’ve never had any problems. I really don’t understand why her biggest concern seems to be her shoes, but my cousin might be the same way. Mainly, I’m just focused on getting those hateful idiots away before something worse happens to someone else.”

“Hm. Why was her license suspended?”

“She tried to run a drunk driver off the road. It, uh- I won’t say there’s no admirableness to this, but I agree with the judge, she could have handled the situation better.”

“So- you do pay attention to other people. By the way, that coding’s wrong.”

Squinting, he sees Tony’s right and knows he needs to stop putting off his own eye exam. It’d be one thing if he needed glasses for his vision in general, but what sort of twenty-something needs reading glasses? “Of course, I do.”

“Rhodey probably wishes he could take my dad’s gun and go out there.”

After mostly succeeding in stifling a laugh, he tries to keep his tone firm, “Tony, do not encourage him.”

“I wouldn’t. I know, I can’t fully understand it, but I have some idea of how he feels.”

“We all do. Here, toss me those headphones.”

They listen to noise frequencies, make notes, and Tony tests out the drones. 

When Tony insists on a lunch break, he asks Bruce, “You ever have a loved one who faced the aforementioned racism or discrimination?”

Thinking of his cousin, he answers, “Not exactly.”

Then, he curses himself when he realises he’s opened himself up to more questions, and Tony is giving him a prodding look. 

“My cousin, when she was thirteen, she went on a date with a black boy around her age. The date went fine, but her parents and his parents both contributed to there never being another one. I don’t know how he took all this, but it hurt her.”

“So, if her parents had been okay with it, would you have been, too?”

He shrugs. “It’d depend.”

“On what?”

Tony, he realises, sounds offended. 

“Various factors. Tony, I don’t tend to answer broad questions with broad answers. If you mean would I object to my cousin dating a black person based solely on the other person being black, no. If this person was a good person and treated her right, then, I’d probably approve of the relationship.”

…

They deploy the drones, and an hour later, the neo-Nazis disband. 

“Good job, kiddo,” Mr Starks says to Tony. “But I still want you and Rhodey-”

“I know. Hey, maybe, Banner here should be transferred to weapons.”

“Biochemistry is my area of focus. I just needed to help do something before someone else got hurt.”

Mr Stark laughs. “Yeah, I heard about car keys going missing. You wouldn’t happen to have had anything to do with that?”

“Morgan only noticed they were missing, because, she was trying to find them. They’ve all been returned to their rightful owners.”

Tony stares, and he realises Tony has no idea how he managed to temporarily relocate car keys when he’s been spending almost every minute since the neo-Nazis arrived either in the staff meeting or working with Tony. 

No one, least of all Tony, needs to know he has one of Tony’s robots trained to commit what could be classified as petty theft.

Shaking his head with a grin, Mr Stark squeezes his shoulder. 

Bruce tries to ignore the expression flitting over Tony’s face. Tony sometimes gets jealous of SHIELD employees, and Bruce would rather not get involved in family drama. Everyone knows Tony is the most important thing in his father’s life, but typical rich kid whose workaholic dad and coddling socialite mother gave expensive gifts in lieu of quality time doesn’t always truly comprehend this.

When Bruce was eighteen, he was, well, a skinny, ragmop kid. He wasn’t fond of eye contact, spoke even less than he did now, and he’d originally interviewed and been hired for the weapons department. He’d come up with blueprints for a hydrogen bomb. 

Then, he’d hidden Dr Wong’s keys, because, as he’s just now realising, stealing keys is a thing with him, and followed the other man around until Dr Wong had had a seizure. “Told you,” he’d said. “Now, will you please go to medical and have them adjust your medication?”

Soon after, Mr Stark had deposited him in the chemistry and medical side of the building and told him to try to figure out how to perfect a vaccine for shingles.

He knows his psych profile isn’t good, and his genius is probably the only thing that saves him from it damning him completely. He knows there’s a good chance someone told Mr Stark to find a non-weapons part of the company to move him to or to get rid of him. Since medicine provides a not-insignificant stream of revenue, there he went. 

“Come on, I’ll pour you and Rhodey some Scotch. Your mom called earlier, and she wants...”

They walk away, and Bruce heads back to his usual labs. 

…

Coming into the lab late one night, Tony quips, “Biological warfare?”

“According to certain animal lovers, yes,” he replies.

“My dad made a lot of mistakes with women back in his day.” 

This is a secret to absolutely no one. Or at least, he truly hopes it wasn’t a secret to Tony. Mr Stark was a ladies’ man, and privately, Bruce imagines he still is. Hopefully, his wife knows and is okay with it, but the thought someone like Mr Stark would ever willingly settle for monogamy, especially with someone like Mrs Stark, who he honestly does think is lovely but also strikes him as utterly unremarkable aside from her beauty, is laughable. 

“His biggest was the fact- he wasn’t always upfront about his intentions. He didn’t stop to think he needed to be. They thought it meant a relationship, and he just wanted a one-night stand. He taught me better. Never lie, and always make it clear if I just wanted some fun, and to ask if that was okay with them, if they understood.”

“Good. It’d be better if more men and women both approached things that way,” he says. 

“Is that your M.O., then?”

“It would be. No social life, remember?”

Tony starts to respond, but the lab phone rings. 

Hoping it’s not Morgan yelling about her car keys (he actually has no idea where they might be), he answers, “Banner.”

One of the receptionists, Glinda Nixon, says, “Miss Walters is on the line for you.”

“Okay, thank you, Miss Glinda. Will you please put her through?”

Jennifer’s first words are, “We’re only speaking in Spanish. I have an exam Tuesday.”

“Okay. How’s my favourite cousin?”

“I’m your only cousin.”

“We both have some very distant ones,” he points out. 

“I’ve decided to drop out. You’ll let me crash in your apartment for the indefinite future, right?”

Laughing, he sits down. “What’s wrong?”

“I was reading about sociopathic children. Why in the hell do I want to be a child’s advocate?”

“Statistically, the chance of you getting a sociopathic child-”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“Because, you’ve been taking over the classes of incompetent teachers since you were in preschool. And you’ve always been good at it. Wonderful, even. You get along great with most kids, and you want to do something to truly help all the kids who need someone to make others listen to them. If it doesn’t work out, you can do anything else, but you owe it to yourself and, with how much your parents are spending on your schooling, them to give it a shot.”

She sighs. “How many mistakes have I made so far?” 

“None that I know of. You’re getting much better at speaking informally while still observing the important grammatical rules. How much have you understood on my end?”

“All of it. Thanks, Bruce.”

“Always happy to defend my apartment from you.”

Scoffing, she says, “Right, onto the subject of dating-”

“If you’ve found someone, I’ll be happy to come down to Aunt Elaine and Uncle Morris’s to meet him, but on my end, I’m still single, I’m still not looking to change that, and if I ever do find someone special, I’ll bring them down to meet the family.”

“Even if it’s a man?”

“If I ever find a nice woman, I’ll bring her down. Otherwise- I promise, I’d tell you, at least.”

“Good. Hey, one of my girlfriends was telling me about this online dating website-”

“I’m not doing online dating.”

“This is more- adult. You can find people to hook-up with.”

“And when there’s a rise of sex trafficking reports on the news, be sure to have your girlfriend report this website and any like it.”

“Bruce!”

“Meeting people online for dating, never mind anonymous sex, is a recipe for disaster, Jennifer, and thank God your parents monitored our internet access while we were growing up.”

“I’m not sure how to take that accusation.”

“Admittedly, they probably would have needed to worry more about me than you,” he offers. 

She makes a small sound. “You’ve been with two people, neither of them serious. You’ve never had a serious girlfriend or boyfriend. I worry about you. Don’t you ever get lonely?”

“Everyone gets lonely occasionally. I’m fine, Jennifer, I promise. If I ever decide I really want to try with another person, I’ll go to a bar.”

“You don’t drink.”

“There’s no requirement you consume alcohol to buy someone else a drink.”

“Bruce, how many people have you played cab driver and mother hen to when they had too much by your estimation?”

“Only my confirmed in the Church of Christ, going to be a lawyer cousin can make not taking advantage of a drunk person and going a step further to ensure their safety and comfort sound like some great oddity of character.”

There’s a sound nearby, and he realises Tony is still in the room. 

“No. It’s just-”

“Look, I’m planning to head home soon. If I find anyone, I’ll call you, and you’re going to do great on your exam.”

“Alright, I’ll let you go. And if I fail, take a plane down to kill you.”

“Jennifer, your parents bought you a two-year train pass last year.”

“I’ll do some research and find out if train or airport security is tighter,” is her stubborn reply. “Bye. Love you.”

“Take care. Love you, too.”

He hangs up. 

“Spanish,” Tony asks. 

“My cousin’s studying to be a lawyer.”

“What kind?”

“Child advocacy.”

The phone rings again, and this time, it’s for Tony. After a minute or two, Tony is out the door.

…

Bruce wakes up. 

Looking at his alarm clock, he tries to figure out what’s woken him. 

Getting out of bed, he slips on a pair of pants, grabs his cordless phone, goes outside, and catches a glimpse of something near the dumpsters. He’s about to go inside and call the police when something falls, and vaguely illuminated from a nearby street light, he sees an emaciated mutt with patches of missing fur and swollen red spots whimpering softly on the ground. 

He knows the sensible thing to do would be not to approach, but infected eyes land on him, and the dog curls even more tightly into itself. 

Sighing, he goes inside, gets some chips, and goes back out.

Whimpering, the dog tries to curl into itself even more when he kneels down, but eventually, it licks at the chip he holds out. 

Sitting down fully, Bruce concentrates on ignoring the horrible smells assaulting his nose, sets a few chips down near the dog, and dials. 

“SHIELD’s Malibu Headquarters, this is Sheila. How may I help you?”

“This is Bruce Banner from CSD. If you need to confirm this, I understand. I need Dr Horita contacted.”

“Oh, do you have a pet emergency,” she sympathetically inquires. 

“Not exactly. There’s a stray dog in bad shape outside of my apartment.”

“Okay, I’ve found a Bruce Banner in the Civilian Scientist Department. Do you know your badge ID?”

He recites it. 

“Alright. I’m setting up voice recognition. Speak when you hear ‘authorisation’.”

Tony’s AI prompts, “Authorisation, please.”

“Banner, Robert Bruce.”

“Okay,” Sheila says. “I’ll get Dr Horita for you.”

…

Darlene Horita is an astrophysicist who does veterinary work on the side. She and her husband own a ranch filled with animals they’ve rescued. 

“She fell off a dumpster?”

“Yes. I don’t know how she managed to get up on it.”

“Well, thank goodness it was closed. Smart little baby, aren’t you, you smelt the food inside, but you probably would have gotten stuck.”

It’s always slightly unnerving whenever Bruce witnesses the no-nonsense, slightly crisp Dr Horita turn soft and almost syrupy around animals. She doesn’t do baby talk, but there is something vaguely reminiscent of a kindergarten teacher about her. 

“Other than that, nothing but sheer willpower can be accredited to her still being alive. But it’s all fixable. Mostly. I don’t think her left eye can be saved. That’s alright, darling, when you’re feeling a little better, you can meet Director Fury.”

Giving her a sad smile, Dr Horita turns fully to him. “If you want to keep her-”

“Either you take her, or I’ll take her to the nearest no-kill shelter I can find,” he says. 

She nods. “I’ll take good care of her, Bruce, and if you ever want to see her, that can be arranged. I’m going to keep her here for a few weeks before I take her home.”

…

Gossip travels fast, and soon, everyone is stopping to see the dog, as well as some people stopping by to talk to him about the dog. 

He could look at the dog’s chart, but he decides- he’d rather deal with Dr Horita’s kindergarten teacher explanations than reading in black-and-white print what all the dog has suffered. 

“Her right hind leg was broken, and it healed badly. I plan to remove it once she’s a little stronger. With it, she’s always going to walk with a limp, but once it’s gone, she can learn to walk and run on her three healthy legs. There’ll probably still be a limp at first, but once she fully learns, there shouldn’t be. It’s better for animals to have a missing limb than a game one. She’s always going to have scars and marks from some of the physical abuse inflicted. But thankfully, chronic pain isn’t going to be an issue. Along with the leg, I plan to spay her.”

He nods. More than once, Dr Horita has brought or someone has brought in for her feral dogs and cats. She spays or neuters them, gives them the necessary shots, and the ones who don’t show a good chance of being tamed, she docks a small amount of their left ear before having them released back to wherever they were found.

“What about her eye?”

“She’s always going to have severely diminished eyesight,” she sighs. “There’s a chance she might go blind, but this one, if she does, she’ll adjust quickly. I’ve flushed out the infection, and removing her left one has ensured none of it spread to other parts of her body. It couldn’t have been saved.”

Bruce isn’t good with comforting people. He knows, aside from neutering and spaying, Dr Horita always tries her best to go with non-surgical removal options when possible. If it’s absolutely necessary an animal be put down, she has a vet friend do it. Everyone knows these facts, but she always blames herself when she can’t give perfect health to an animal. 

Thankfully, the dog makes some sort of noise. 

Based on Dr Horita’s reaction, it’s not a bad one, but Bruce has no idea what to make of it. 

He’s even less sure what to do when Dr Horita grabs his hand and leads him over. “Hi, baby. This is Bruce Banner, the man who saved you. Do you remember him?”

She puts his hand above the dog. “You can pet her.”

Withdrawing his hand, he says, “Uh, I should get back to the lab.”

…

Dr Horita takes the dog home, and it runs away. 

He hopes wherever it goes, it’s okay. 

Neither of the Starks are brave enough to use this in their continuing debates with her on whether implanted microchip trackers in animals should be mandatory or not. Dr Horita has implanted said microchips in pets at the requests of their owners, but she personally disbelieves in the process and refuses to have it done to any of her animals.

“What do you think, Banner,” Tony asks one day. 

Bruce thinks Tony is going to massively screw up Dakota’s experiment, but she’d probably kill him for the suggestion. 

Wearing a tank top and tight pants, Tony is doing handstand push-ups as he talks, and Dakota is paying more attention to this than the live culture she’s supposed to be observing. 

“I don’t have an opinion.” 

“If you had a pet-”

“I still wouldn’t have an opinion. If it was the law, I’d follow it. Now, it’d depend on the cost. People who don’t have Dr Horita have to pay hundreds of dollars to have it done.”

Switching from his hands to his feet, Tony sits down, and Bruce resumes working with his own live culture. 

“Okay, new question: What do you think of SHIELD’s policy on inter-departmental dating?”

“Probably shouldn’t admit this to my boss’s son, but I don’t even know what said policy is.”

Tony laughs. 

“You don’t work in this department,” Dakota points out. “Or at SHIELD itself.”

“I’m an independent contractor.”

“Probably the only CEO who can and ever will say such a thing,” she comments. “Still, sorry but not sorry to tell you, Mister Stark, but everyone knows about your little crush. Just ask. The answer’s probably going to be no, but it’ll put the rest of us out of our misery.”

Great, just what SHIELD needs, the kid of one of the bosses taking an interest in an employee, Bruce thinks. This can’t possibly go wrong. 

Even if, on paper, Mr Stark is just an investor or nominal partner, in reality, he once went to battle against Director Carter and Captain America, and he almost came out with SHIELD under his complete control. In the end, compromises were made on both ends, and she stayed Director, but his influence and Mr Vanko’s both was undeniably increased. 

“Banner here looks like he disagrees.”

“If it’s Morgan, don’t ask, Tony. One of your cars, don’t ask me which, will disappear, and you’ll never see it again.”

Dakota reels off some car name. “She wouldn’t steal it.”

“No, she’d probably trick him into signing something giving it to her, and then, before he realised he had, she’d have it out and hidden.” 

“Eh, that might be true,” Dakota acknowledges. “What about Tam?”

“That might not end in disaster.”

“Unless, of course, her brother the hardened criminal objects.”

He scoffs. “Waving something shiny in front of him or tossing some junk food at him will have him sufficiently distracted.”

“And yet, for all you don’t like him, you got your cousin to help her keep him out of prison.”

“I don’t dislike Henry. I just don’t have much respect for people who are incapable of going any significant period of time without being intoxicated.”

“Oh, damn it, these results aren’t right!” Going over to the computer, she glances at Tony. “Yeah, just get your no, and move on.”

It hits him Tony is being unusually quiet, and he hopes it’s not Dakota herself Tony has set his sights on. The last time they talked about her girlfriend, she and Abigail were happy and planning to move in together once Abigail’s lease expires.

“Yeah, uh, I plan to leave with my dad tonight. Or if he leaves early, I’ll call Happy to come get me. Bruce, when you’re done for the day, I want to talk to you privately.”

“Okay,” he agrees. 

…

“Maybe you should go talk to Tony, now,” Dakota says. 

“He’s probably having lunch with his dad and Director Fury.” 

“Look, Bruce, I have a feeling I know what he wants to talk to you about. I’m-”

The phone rings, and she grabs it. “Dakota Belton in Lab C.” After a few seconds, she asks, “May I ask what this is regarding?” 

Making a face, she holds the phone out. “Bruce, your landlord is a sexist pig.”

Nodding, he takes the phone. “Mr Olson, if this is about-”

“There’s a three-legged, one-eyed dog sitting outside your apartment. If you’ve gotten a pet-”

“Mr Olson, please, hold on for a minute.” Setting the phone down, he asks, “Do you know if Dr Horita is back from her visiting her son?”

“She’s staying until next week.” 

“Do you know how to contact her? I think her dog might be back at my apartment.”

Her eyes widen. “I’ll call. You go make sure that sexist pig doesn’t call animal control on any innocent dogs, hers or not.”


End file.
